Chapter 11 #2
After a second, Theo shook his head and popped the hood. He walked around and leaned over the engine. He started tinkering around—without tools. Likely doing some sort of witchy magic to cool the engine down or whatever the hell needed to be done.
“How do you know anything about cars? Are they the same in your realm?” I asked, dying for him to talk and spare me of my embarrassment over telling him part of my life story.
“More or less,” he said.
I sighed dramatically at the short response. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that. Come on. I just shared some of my biggest shame.”
He pulled away from the car, watching me carefully. “The Hallows has amazing public transportation. Hardly anyone drives cars, but the ones that do exist in our realm were brought over from here.”
“I see.” I twisted my hands together in front of me.
He looked under the hood, waving his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke. “You definitely need oil. I might have to come back in the morning,” he said. “And the flat should be a quick fix too.”
“I don’t have a spare,” I admitted.
“That’s all right. I can patch it.”
“With magic.” I wiggled my hands.
“Yes, actually.”
“Thanks,” I said, nearly breathless. “This is the second time today you’ve rescued me.” I thought back to how good it had felt to see him at the market. My own personal knight in shining armor.
“My dad actually taught me a bit about cars,” he added. “I…I used to spend a lot of time here growing up.”
“Why?” I pushed, mostly because I’d never seen Theo look like he was open to sharing. I’d take anything he was willing to give.
“My parents were researchers.”
“Researchers?” My ears perked up at the possibility of gleaning any new information off this man.
“Yes. There’s this place back home. The Institute of Portals, Realms, and Human Studies. It’s where they met.”
“So they studied…us.”
“Well, yeah. It’s like anthropology for modern times. It’s so our realm can keep up to date on any current events. It was more relevant at the turn of the last century, so that we didn’t fall behind on inventions. It’s less busy now.”
An institute dedicated to humans. Huh. It weirded me out that their realm was so aware of us while most of us had no clue about their existence. It was like we were a part of an alien study or something.
“And your parents work at this institute?”
The car had stopped smoking and he put the hood back in place. “They did. It involved a lot of travel back and forth. Sometimes I came too.”
I nodded, hoping I didn't appear too eager for him to continue.
“It’s also where I work, although what I do is mostly clerical. My grandfather, too, for that matter. Until he passed. You could say it’s a bit of a family tradition.”
“Wow.” I pushed out a breath. “You work with your parents? That’s impressive. I love my mom but she’d drive me nuts.”
His eyes fell to the ground before he gave a small shake of his head. “They don’t work there anymore.”
“Retired?” I guessed, although I wasn’t even sure if that was a thing in their realm. Hell, it was barely a thing in this realm.
“They…they moved a while back.”
“Ahh,” I said. “And you didn’t want to move with them?”
He leveled me with a stare. “More like they didn’t want to bring me.” His voice was even, but I could see something distant flicker across his face, like he was actively disassociating.
“Shit, Theo.”
“It’s all right.” He shrugged. “I was fifteen. An adult by all standards.”
“Not really,” I said carefully. “Not at all, actually.”
He waved a hand. “It’s in the past. My parents had always been flighty. They were obsessed with this realm and seeing everything they possibly could. I moved in with my grandfather after it happened. He’d always been the more stable figure in my life.”
“Hence the journal being so important to you,” I muttered, thinking of the thing Theo had risked everything for. I’d seen him reading it sometimes over tea.
He nodded. “My job at the institute is to handle relics. It was easy for me to access the journal so I just…took it. It was stupid. I’ve always been a rule follower.
But I couldn’t stand to put it behind a display case, never to be read again.
He wouldn’t have wanted that. He loved this realm, he’d want people to read and muse over his thoughts. ”
“Seems like your whole family loved this realm,” I said.
“Everyone except me. It’s hard to find peace with a place your family chose over you.”
That sent an ache straight through my chest. Theo didn’t act like he was miserable here, but it wasn’t like I had anything to compare his current demeanor to.
Because I wanted nothing more than the sadness surrounding his eyes to diminish, I said, “When I was ten, my dad brought me to Disney World with my two half siblings.”
His eyes landed on mine.
“It’s this place with, um, giant rides, and?—”
“I know what it is,” he said, his lips ticking upward.
“Oh, well anyway. It was my first time seeing him in a few years and I was really excited. But he used me as a glorified babysitter while he and his wife did their own thing. After a few hours of being stuck with his new kids and not seeing him at all, I started crying on that stupid spinny teacup ride and scared my half siblings. That was my one and only time ever meeting them.”
He studied me. Something in his eyes told me he knew what I was doing.
Exchanging a vulnerability. It was the only way I knew how to open up and I did it sparingly.
In fact, I hadn’t even told my mom that story.
I was too ashamed at the time and now I stuffed it into the recesses of my mind, pretending it had no effect on me.
Yet, for a memory that I was supposed to be unbothered by, I could still see it clear as day.
I could distinctly remember gulping for air as I desperately wished I was anywhere but there.
“That was a cruel thing to do to you,” he whispered.
To my horror, a hot tear sprung out of my left eye and I swiped it away quickly.
“When my parents left, I thought it was going to be for two months. Until I found a letter they’d written me, left on a table.”
My lips parted. “A letter?”
“It said they cared for me, but the world was too big to be tied down. I think the whole thing was half a page.”
“Half a page?” I gawked as multiple emotions tore through me. Anger at his parents. Heartbreak for Theo. Appreciation that he was sharing this part of himself with me.
“It was to the point,” he said. “My grandfather had told me it wasn’t a reflection on me, and I chose to take that to heart. They weren’t the typical parents, but I’m grateful they gave me life.”
I snorted. “That’s mature of you. I don’t think that thought has once crossed my mind about my father.”
“I take it you don’t talk to him anymore?”
I shook my head. “I think the last time we spoke was when he called on Christmas ten years ago. You?”
“They sent back a postcard once with a different group of researchers who’d run into them somewhere in Canada. It said, ‘Miss you. Hope all is well.’”
My nose scrunched, physically disgusted that those people could do what they did to Theo.
“I hate them,” I said.
He looked taken aback by that. “It’s common in my realm. It’s so small compared to your world. A lot of people dream about leaving.”
“I don’t care,” I said forcefully. “They suck.”
Maybe I was overstepping. The rage swimming in my chest wouldn’t relent. But then, the next time he looked at me, a smile played on his lips. A real one.
“Your dad sucks too,” he said.
“Amen to that.”
Headlights came into view on the empty road, and a car whizzed by us, breaking the spell.
“We should get back,” he said. “I’ll come back tomorrow for your car.”
We both fell into step walking back to the truck. The passenger side door swung open softly on it’s own. I was used to it by now, so I climbed in. Theo sank into the driver’s seat, he paused before putting the key in the ignition.
We both climbed into the truck and drove the short distance back to the house. We didn’t talk about anything else. Perhaps I’d used up his allotted conversation for the week.
I didn’t mind.
The silence was comfortable.